Another Twisted Path
by countingbullets
Summary: It was all Draco's idea in the end. Telling Dobby about Harry Potter, suggesting Voldemort's diary be given to Ginny... Hogwarts from Draco's point of view and what he sees in the Mirror of Erised vs. what he's supposed to do.
1. The Boy With No Choice

The same moment an orphan baby boy with a fresh scar on his head was being transported over England on a giant flying motorbike, Lucius Malfoy was keeled over clutching at his left arm. His shouting woke his one year old son, and his wife, Narcissa, was desperately trying to calm them both.

"What, dear, what is it?" she cried, attempting to rock her precious boy back to sleep. "Please, please talk to me! What has happened to him? Is it a message?" Lucius grimaced awfully and ripped his sleeve open so quickly that two polished black buttons went skidding across the floor. The mark on his arm, which incuded a skull head and a snake, was writhing.

"Something's wrong," groaned Lucius Malfoy, "Because it's definitely not calling for a meeting. Something is wrong with the dark lord."

Narcissa tried to reply but was drowned out by the wailing coming from her arms.

"Shut up!" barreled Lucius, his temper obviously shortened by the extreme pain soaring through his left arm into his body. "Narcissa, send an owl to someone. Anyone; Goyle, Snape, I don't care. Just find out what's going on." The woman started to exit with the small loud bundle in hide arms but Lucius stopped her again.

"Give me Draco. I'll deal with him right now." Narcissa froze, and although she did not dare to say anything, her hesitancy in leaving her son with her husband was obvious.

"Give him to me."

"I can just-"

"I did not instruct you to do that right now. Find out what's going on and GIVE HIM TO ME." The bundle of a boy was laid carefully in his father's arms and Narcissa reluctantly exited the room.

Lucius glared down at his noisy red son.

"It's time to teach you a lesson," he said impatiently as he took out his wand.

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><p>The Malfoys really had no reason to be unhappy in life aside from the fact they had been handed some very dark cards. They were purebloods, something they took a lot of pride in, so they could not be ashamed at their spot in the wizarding world.<p>

Lucius Malfoy was a tall man with long, flowing white hair. He had gone up though Slytherin, as was tradition in his family, and he was very proud of his heritage. He worked a job at the Ministry of Magic, a rather high ranking, if you will, and he could certainly provide more than well enough for his family.

His wife, Narcissa Black, originally, had followed the same path as him. She tended to their large, rather expensive house, but that mostly included watching over their house elf and making sure to pick out every flaw in Dobby's work. Personally, Narcissa didn't care for some of the activities her husband got himself involved in, although she would never protest.

For example, he had gotten himself all up and involved in Lord... Lord Voldemort, and he demanded so much from Lucius. Narcissa could tell her husband regretted his decision to become a Death Eater, but he was much to haughty and proud to admit it. Plus, not to mention the consequences at the ministry- or worse, at the hands of the Dark Lord himself if word got out of Lucius not wanting to continue being a Death Eater.

Besides the decisions out of her control, Narcissa's life had been made a little less dank and depressing with the birth of her first son, Draco. He was absolutely stunning, with perfect blond hair and stunning, shining gray eyes. She could not ask for a better little boy.

If it was up to her Narcissa Malfoy would have prefered to raise Draco on her own. Lucius was not intentionally cruel, he was just... well, they would just have to see how their son would turn out.

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><p>AN: Yes, this is short, but it's an intro chapter because I don't know how this is going to turn out yet. Let me explain to you what I'm going for here.<p>

I am certain there are Drarry stories which explain nearly everything from Draco's point of view, but I haven't found them yet so I must write one.

My goal is to write side by side with the book to stay as accurate as possible- except, you know, it's Drarry, so something has got to be different about it.

I wanted to write something long, so lets see how this lasts. I'm going to try to make the chapters of this parallel to the Philosopher's Stone, so wish me luck.

Don't worry, chapters will definitely be longer.

Also I don't own Harry Potter, what do you figure.

And don't just completely hate, please. Thanks loves.


	2. The Anxiety-Inducing Expectations

If there was one thing Draco Malfoy wanted to strive for in his (hopefully) upcoming years at Hogwarts, it was perfection. His father, mostly, stressed perfection so much that Draco looked up to him, and he always wanted to do whatever he could to impress his mother. In the ten years that had passed since the disappearance of Voldemort, Draco, being a young, impressionable child, had become extremely haughty and proud; like his father.

All children start out as innocent little beings, but Draco was now aware of his ancestry and the fact he was better than all those mudbloods who were dirtying up the wizard society. God, if Mudbloods got into Hogwarts and he didn't manage to, he would hang himself.

Still, Draco found himself quite nervous and anxious for the arrival of his Hogwarts letter. He hoped that he was considered one of "the brightest wizards of his age." His father, gleaming down his nose at Draco, had assured him he would be accepted into the school, but with no backup plan, Draco knew of the consequences if he wasn't. They weren't pretty.

And once he had been accepted into Hogwarts (hopefully,) he had to be perfect. There was really no other option, as his next seven years were all carefully set out by his father. He must retain good grades and be at the top of his class, using his marvelous intellect, in his second year he would most definitely be accepted into the Slytherin quidditch team because he should definitely have some talent for the sport, and he should be promoted to prefect in fifth year onwards because he DEFINITELY had astonishing leadership qualities waiting to be discovered. Oh, and he would get into Slytherin, no doubt about it. Any other house would be a disgrace. Draco could picture himself coming home for the Christmas holidays dressed in yellow Hufflepuff robes and his father scorning him and whipping out his oh-so-familiar wand...

Draco shuddered as the familiar curse sensation reminisced through his body. His father didn't mind using the Cruciatus curse on him because "Draco needed to build up a tolerance to the curse anyway, and if he continues to make careless mistakes he deserves to be punished." And naturally, breathing a word about the curses would only result in longer, stronger ones. It was unforgivable, after all.

Draco lay on his bed, staring at his ceiling intently. There were cobwebs in three of the four corners of his decently sized room. Those house elves would need to do a better job.

Speaking of one of the devils, the door to Draco's room creaked open timidly. One large round eye was all that showed through the ajarness.

"Dobby, what do you want?" Draco grunted. "Have you come to clean my room?" Draco wasn't particularly fond of Dobby the house elf, but he was useful. Draco didn't do many chores because Dobby did them for him, so he didn't hate him that much. Certainly less than his father did. His father made Dobby punish himself.

"No sir," quietly responded Dobby, "Dobby simply came here to tell you Master seeks you, young sir. But... if you feel your room is not adequately clean, Dobby will clean it again, sir?"

"Yes, do. The ceiling is filthy," complained Draco as he swung himself around and headed out the door. He wondered what his father wanted now as his socks happily gripped the newly buffered dark wood. He headed down the stairs and into the kitchen, where his mother was conducting ingredients and utensils, his father was sitting at the head of the table reading the Daily Prophet, and on top of the table was an emerald green wrapped box with a navy bow.

It was June 5th! How could he have forgotten? He must have been so absorbed in this thoughts about Hogwarts...

Seeing Draco walk into the room, Lucius Malfoy set down his paper and stood up.

"Happy birthday, son," he said, pursing his lips in a smile and holding Draco to him. Draco's head rested nicely in the dip in his father's ribcage, and he savored the sensation, not getting hugged by his father often. His mother also came over, bent down, and nearly squeezed the eleven years out of Draco.

She then gestured to the box on the table, smiling, "Go on, open it."

Draco went to the box and carefully removed the bow. He peeled back the wrapping paper and was faced with a fairly large, square, dark wooden trunk. The ran two fingers over the smoothed wood and flipped open the silver latch.

Inside were several objects. The most obvious of the presents was rustling uncomfortably in its cage. Draco wrapped his hands around the cage's ring and pulled it out of the wooden box, revealing an eagle owl. Draco smiled and placed the owl on the table next to the box, now removing a new set of Exploding Snap cards. He also received ink that changed color as you wrote and a rather expensive looking gold-embroidered album made to collect Chocolate Frog cards. Lastly, Draco pulled out a small ring box and opened it to reveal a large, entrancing emerald ring. He looked at his father, a bit confused.

"It's a family heirloom. It's supposedly passed down from Salazar Slytherin himself. Something to show off in the common room," finished Lucius Malfoy with a wink. Draco immediately felt all the nerves he had managed to put off for a few minutes come rushing back.

"I know it's not as many presents as you're used to, but when we go shopping for school supplies, we'll buy you whatever you desire, alright darling?" modestly cooed Mrs. Malfoy. Draco nodded and gave a half-smile. That was...assuming Draco got an acceptance letter from Hogwarts.

"You look hungry, sweetie," noted Narcissa, pushing Draco down in a seat and taking one beside him. Lucius sat back down with his paper and continued to scan it.

"Kreacher!" Narcissa Malfoy called as she moved Draco's presents to the other side of the table.

The dirty house elf shuffled in, drawing in his low, scratchy voice, "You called, Madam..?"

"Bring out Draco's cake," she replied curtly, casting a subtle glance at her husband, who didn't appear to notice.

She continued, "So, Draco, your father and I were thinking we could take you somewhere you'd like to go for the rest of your special day. Anywhere you have in mind?"

Draco shook his head. He would much rather stay home and focus on maintaining his state of mind as he worried about what would happen in a couple weeks when the Hogwarts letters were supposed to arrive. His defiance had contracted his father's attention.

"Are you quite sure, darling? Not even Hogsmeade? Or the cinema?" Although Muggle movies were disgusting, Draco had seen a few films and enjoyed them. It was quite ridiculous, the things that went through the Muggles' heads when they wrote them.

"Not the cinema," Lucius Malfoy abruptly stated, casting a warning glare at the other members of his family. "Why don't you want to go out, Draco?"

Draco shrugged, "I just... I don't feel up to it today."

"Oh no," Narcissa Malfoy fondled, expression changing immediately to concern. "Are you sick, dear? Are you hurt?"

"No, I'm alright, mother. I didn't sleep very well, that's all. I was having dreams," Draco lied.

Narcissa opened her mouth to reply but was cut off when Mr. Malfoy interrupted, "What dreams?"

"Uhhhhh," stalled Draco, mind racing to try to find a good solution that wouldn't worry his mother too much. "I forgot most of it... I think I was in a Muggle supermarket, and they were all cornering me and asking me to perform spells, but I kept telling them I didn't have a wand yet. It's not really a big deal." Draco averted his eyes from his parents and picked at the edge of the table. They were both silent, which worried Draco. Fortunately, the quiet was broken when Kreacher entered with Draco's cake, which had his name written in the green and silver letters characteristic of Slytherin.

* * *

><p><strong>Daddy problems ftw.<strong>

**Also I took about 20 different Sorting Hat quizzes and got Slytherin for 90%. I'm not even that bad.**

**Caaaaarrrpppe...**


	3. The Letters From Someone

Draco had taken up drawing, something he thought he'd never have an interest in pursuing, in the time during the summer holidays where he was anticipating his letter. To the disdain of his father, Narcissa Malfoy had bought Draco a sketch pad and the finest Muggle drawing pencils she could get her hands on, according to the salesman. It was supposedly another late birthday present, but Draco knew he would have gotten a drawing pad whenever he asked if he wanted one. He could be found any day of the week in some obscure nook of the house, drawing empty floor space and dust-laced walls.

Once, when his father noted all his pictures appeared the same, Draco decided to go doodle outside, instead picking out the turrets of the manor and texturing the rust on the metal gate. It was a humid day, and eventually Draco abandoned his drawing pad and laid on his back, observing the clouds. He would have to give a hand at trying to draw those later.

It was times like this Draco wished he had someone to talk to besides his parents or house elves. Being too elevated for normal Muggle elementary, he had spent a lot of time with his mother being taught what he needed to know- not like any of that had helped him at all. He didn't know how to interact with people his own age, and he was pretty sure things like birthday parties and whatnot were supposed to be celebrated with actual friends. What would he do if he got into Hogwarts and didn't know anyone? His father assured that Vincent and Gregory, his father's friends' sons, would be in the same house as him, but he had only really hung out with them twice and they seemed to be rather stupid.

While he contemplated these very important life questions, Draco noticed a brown barn owl fly up to the front door and stick something through the mail slot. He didn't recognize the owl as one of his parents' friends', and it certainly wasn't their owl. Draco grabbed his drawings and sprinted to the door, slamming it quickly and grabbing the recently deposited letter. His heart lept into his throat.

This was it! Draco sighed with relief as he read mentally,

"Mr. D. Malfoy, The First Bedroom on the Second Floor, Malfoy Manor, Wiltshire."

"Mum!" he yelled as he sprinted through the hall, almost knocking his mother over. He shoved the letter into her hands, face broken into such a large grin of relief.

"Don't you want to open it?" Mrs. Malfoy asked, gently returning Draco's letter.

Draco nodded and carefully opened the Hogwarts seal, wanting to ensure pristine letter condition.

He pulled out the crisp parchment that smelt of freshly waxed floors and read, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore. (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) Dear Mr. Malfoy," Draco paused to smile up at his mother.

"We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress."

"Well, aren't you pleased, boy," came a voice from the door. Draco turned to see his father, eyes proud and not as cold as usual. What a relief.

"Yes, of course, father," Draco mumbled modestly, eyes running over every detail on the very important piece of paper. He could finally relax! Finally, less pressure; it was nice to feel the butterflies that had been constantly pecking his stomach dissolve.

"I'll... I'll have to write the reply, then!" Draco chirped, flashing another bright white smile and dashing up the steps to his room. He left his parents standing in the hallway, his father's arm around his mother's shoulders. She had the kindness in her eyes that always deceived her true intentions.

Draco nearly barreled over Dobby in his rush to get to a piece of parchment and a quill.

"Dobby is sorry, he was in sir's way!" wailed Dobby as he walked over to a wall and proceeded to bang his head into it.

"No, Dobby, stop!" tittered Draco. He did something his father would most certainly not approve of. Draco was filled with such a feeling of elation and relaxation that he picked Dobby up to stop him from hurting himself and shoved his letter in the house elf's face.

"Dobby, I'm going to Hogwarts!" Draco smiled.

Dobby blinked a few times before reacting, squealing, "Oh, that's wonderful, young sir! Dobby is so excited for Draco to continue the Malfoys' legacy at Hogwarts!"

"Oh I hope so," aimlessly replied Draco. "Come, Dobby, I'm going to write my reply straight away!" He darted into his room, frantically searching for parchment and a quill pen. He knocked over a bottle of ink but didn't bother to stop and clean it up, instead retrieving a new one from inside a drawer.

"Dear... Professor... McGonagall," Draco muttered as he wrote, "Thank you... for letting me know about my position... at Hogwarts. I will be... attending this term... Sincerely, Draco... Lucius... Malfoy."

Draco finished his last name with the flourish on the 'y' that he had practiced several times after seeing his father sign papers that way. He folded up his letter, pushed it into an envelope, and shooed his eagle owl out the window and on the way to Hogwarts to deliver his response.

Draco walked over to his bed, sitting down and pulling out his materials list. He would make his parents take him to Diagon Alley tomorrow, he didn't think he could wait any longer. In his peripheral vision, he could see Dobby dabbing at the spilled ink with his pillowcase.

Opening the second piece of parchment in the Hogwarts envelope, Draco read, "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS:

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT:

wand cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set

glass or crystal phials

telescope set

brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS."

Draco breathed in the parchment from Hogwarts. Full of ambition, he couldn't wait to see his life play out perfectly like he planned, like the way it was supposed to. He was going to do great things.

* * *

><p>This chapter didn't even have that much writing in it but it's not like I have time to write this story, oops. But I'm going to anyways.<p>

So Draco gets to meet Harry in the next chapter and I'm pumped. For reals.


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